Blossoms in the rain
by Liquid mirror
Summary: Bella turns up one rainy day for her shift at the Newtons' store. What greets her there is the sight of a frail, red-headed man whom everyone seems to dislike and avoid.   All human. Read on.
1. Chapter 1

I looked out at the thrashing rain that fell like an endless curtain over the trees, the buildings and a few unlucky vehicles. My truck crawled along, almost as if it was enjoying the wash that I'd forgotten to give it. I checked my watch.

"Darn", I muttered. I was already late for my shift at the Newtons' store.

It was the rain and rumbling thunder that greeted me this morning. There wasn't a trace of the sunshine that had lasted for a few days this week. The scene outside matched my mood. The rain drained the color out of everything. I'd debated whether to stay at home, settle into the warm sheets and read a book, or to drag myself to the store through the downpour. My strict, responsible side told me that I shouldn't miss work. And I listened. I needed the money.

After a few more minutes of torture, I killed the engine, grabbed my umbrella and got out of the truck. The wind blew the icy rain into my face, making me shiver. By the time I reached the glass doors that led to the store, I was drenched, despite the umbrella.

I opened the door, and my eyes closed as the heat hit me. I was deeply thankful for the heater that was installed last month, only because the violent shivers the cold gave me frightened Mrs. Newton.

Mike Newton looked up from a box that he was unpacking. A tall boy, or man, maybe, sat next to him, helping him sort polyester jackets according to color.

"Hey, Bella." He smiled.

"Hey". I greeted, closed my umbrella and gathered my hair in a ponytail, slipping a rubber band into it.

"Dull day, huh? You didn't have to come today, you know. There aren't any customers today. I mean, how can there be, right?" He looked beyond me into the angry rain.

"It's okay, I don't mind." I lied. "Now that I'm here, well, is there anything you want me to help you with?" I enquired. I didn't want to go back into the cold hell just yet.

"Uh, yes, actually." He smiled, his blue eyes lighting up. " I have this big essay to write that I've been putting off, and if I don't get it done today, I'll be in trouble. But mom wanted this stuff unpacked first." He sighed.

"Yeah, I know the one." I recalled, having already finished it a week ago.

"You've finished it, haven't you?" He grinned.

"I got bored." I laughed.

"Well, okay then." He got up, and stretched.

That was when I really saw the man who sat next to Mike. He was stooping over the boxes, his posture unhealthy, stacking the different colored jackets onto the growing piles quickly.

"Oh." Mike followed my gaze. " Oh, yeah. How rude of me. This is Edward Masen, Bella." He gestured.

Edward Masen looked up. Something tugged at my stomach. It was his face. It was pale, and sallow. He looked thoroughly sleep-deprived and his mouth was set in a straight line. His eyes were green, the shadow beneath his eyes making the bright irises stand out. His hair was reddish brown, and was very messy. His clothes were too big for his lanky frame, and they were deeply frayed with constant use. I'd never seen such an unhealthy face, and it bothered me more, that whatever anguish he was going through, was written all over his face.

"He works at a repair shop, and he's here to help me. We've known each other for quite some time. He's a good guy."

He smiled weakly at Edward. But I could tell that he didn't mean what he just said.

Edward stood up and walked over to me, extending his hand. I managed to look up at his face, and shake hands. I flinched inwardly when his cold hand touched mine. His eyes were tired and strangely deserted.

"So, you guys get to work, see you later." Mike opened the door and got out.

I remained standing, but Edward went back to his seat and began to cut through a cellophane-wrapped box with a penknife.

I took the seat next to him, and began unpacking. The only sounds that I could hear was the ruffle of synthetic fabric, crinkling of plastic and the wind that whistled through the rain outside.

My hands began to shake, the presence of this man was deeply bothering me. He never looked up from his work. And we never talked.

Time ticked by, and finally, Edward got up from his chair. He walked over to the counter, and grabbed a yellow envelope from the tabletop.

Then he turned to look at me. "Actually, I'm here for the money." He held up the yellow envelope. "That's why I agreed to work here every Thursday."

His sudden, bizarre revelation surprised me. "Oh. Well… me too." I stammered. I didn't know what else to say.

"You're Chief Swan's kid, right?" He asked, flapping his envelope.

"Yes, I am." I replied.

"And Newton was lying. He doesn't really like me. He's scared of me….

…. Everyone's scared of me." He looked down at his feet, his expression forlorn.

"You don't even know me, but I know you're scared of me too." He looked up then, smiling a smile of pure contempt.

Then, without another word, he turned around, and walked into the rain, without bothering to pull his hood on.

I was shocked beyond words. They was something deeply wrong with him, no, something that was deeply _bothering_ him. And what he said was true, I was a little frightened of him, his dark words and sallow face inspired a subtle dislike in me.

I didn't want him here every Thursday. My irrational dislike decided. I looked out into the dark rain, entirely baffled and confused.

I had lived all my life in the same monotonous routine. For the first time, I felt the signs of change. The innermost part of my mind told me that this person, whom I disliked instantly, would be the source of that change.

I cringed at the thought.


	2. Chapter 2

With a sigh, I stepped down from the stool, put the duster down and looked around proudly at my dust-free room. It was not much, my room. It was something my dad had thrown together when he realized that the arrival of a baby into the house required a clean, painted room.

Lack of homework had made me decide to save my room from the hazards of dust, rot and cobwebs.

I stuffed the broom and the dusters into the cupboard, and I was preparing to take a shower when I heard a knock on the door.

"Coming!" I called, and hurried down the stairs.

"Hey." Emmett greeted as I opened the door.

"Oh, hey. I wasn't really expecting you." I said, and gestured him inside.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" He gave me a dimpled smile before settling himself down on the couch.

"Like that's ever stopped you." I muttered and sat down on the armrest beside him. "So, what brings you here today?"

Emmett McCarty was my neighbour. But the bond that we shared was a very intimate brother-sister relationship. Emmett had moved here when I was three. He'd taken an immediate liking to the clumsy wide-eyed girl, or so he'd told me. Emmett was the prefect remedy to my moody personality. He was fun loving and carefree, but when the situation demanded it; he could grow very levelheaded and mature. His extremely muscled body was intimidating, but his twinkling blue eyes were always brimmed with humor, and his dimples always made him look disarmingly innocent.

"Heh. I was bored. My date for tonight sort of bailed. Imagine that, huh? Really good looking girl too. That just took a big chunk out of my ego, I'm telling ya." He shook his head and put his feet up on the table. "Anyway, what's new with you?" He turned his head towards me.

"Nothing, really." He looked back at me, knowing there really was something. "I'm just very… nervous right now, Emmett. I don't know how to describe it." I looked down.

"What's wrong?" He asked, a little cautious.

"Well, there's this guy, who's working at the Newtons' store, and he…I don't know. He freaks me out. He behaves like he's suffering or something. And I remember it clearly, when he looked at me. There was so much revulsion." I recalled, breathing faster.

"Gee, Bells, it sounds like you hate this guy. And for no reason at all." He frowned.

"Yeah, Em. That's what makes me feel worse. I hate him for no reason at all." I admitted.

"What's this guy's name, anyway?" He asked.

"Uh, Edward. Edward Masen."

The change in Emmett curious expression was very sudden. His placid eyes suddenly grew wider, and he swung his legs off the table. He grabbed my shoulder.

"EDWARD MASEN?" He almost shouted.

"Yeah, that's what I just said." I said, wincing at his grip on my shoulder.

"Oh, God Bella. I can't believe it. He did some dirty, dark stuff, Bells, I'm telling ya. The guy killed his _own mother_." His eyes grew impossibly wide.

I stared back at him, feeling a sick chill creeping up my spine, giving me goose bumps.

"His mother?" It was…it was wrong. It was just wrong. My revulsion, and fear, for the unhealthy man grew stronger. "Isn't he supposed to be behind bars, then?" I enquired.

" He should be. But they don't have enough evidence to lock him in. But everyone knows he did it. _Everyone_. And there were witnesses. They heard her scream, and they saw him stepping out with a bloody knife. And then he ran." His grip loosened, he fell back on the couch, scratching his curly head.

" I'll talk to that Newton kid. And don't worry, I won't tell Charlie. He'll freak out." He patted my hands.

"Thanks Emmett. I hope I don't have to see him when I go back there next Thursday." I gave him a short hug, got up from the couch, and wondered what was left in the refrigerator to feed Charlie when he came home.

Emmett helped me with dinner, and made the table, talking on and on about the girl he was supposed to go out with. But my mind just kept giving me flashes of a woman being stabbed, the agonized trill of her scream, and green eyes that swirled with dark memories.

I hoped Emmett wouldn't notice my hands shaking as I laid out the plates on the table.


	3. Chapter 3

After school, I drove straight to Newtons'. My mood was fairly bright, mainly due to the lack of rain and also due to the fact that Edward Masen wouldn't be showing up today, thanks to Emmett. I hadn't seen him for a few days, so I couldn't ask him how the talk went. I guessed he was hanging out at one of his rowdy friends' apartment, like he sometimes did.

But I couldn't bring myself to be completely optimistic, though. _He_'d told me that he needed the money. I felt terrible for depriving him of it, but I pushed the feeling away, concentrating on being glad that I wouldn't have to work with…a killer. That was what he was. A killer, who did no less of a cold-blooded crime than kill his own mother.

A few men and women stood talking on the pavement. A burly man unloaded a huge leather armchair from his truck. A few girls I knew loitered around the bent, mossy trees, laughing and talking. An old couple warily crossed the road, looking out for reckless logging trucks. Everyone seemed to be making full use of the dry ground before it transformed into muddy stretches with the next arrival of the rain.

I parked my truck outside the store, ignoring the pitiful whining noise its ancient engine made. I ignored all of the faces that turned to stare at me. I got out, shutting my ears to a few giggles that came from my right.

Heaving a sigh, I pushed open the shuttered door, and got in. Mike wasn't there, so I decided to sort everything and wait for customers. I put on my orange employee vest, which was, in my opinion, Mrs. Newton's most ridiculous idea yet. I walked over to the fishing section and started sorting lures and packets of nylon thread into their boxes. A few minutes must have passed, when I heard the door open and heard Mike shuffle in. I leaned over the aisle to greet him, but it wasn't Mike whom I saw.

It was Edward Masen.

Fishhooks tumbled off my hands, landing noisily on the floor. Masen turned his head towards the noise. His green eyes focused on me, and I could already feel my hands and forehead starting to get clammy with sweat.

He stared. He stared at me with such obvious hatred, that the sensation was similar to being set aflame.

My terrified eyes broke free of his revolted stare, as the door opened again, and the first customer stepped in. He was obviously a hiker, clad in layers of synthetic clothing. He saw Masen first, greeted him and told him he was looking for hiking boots. He led the black haired man to the next aisle, giving me another filthy look.

I sank back against the metal shelf, with my head in my hands. I thought I wouldn't have to see him. Emmett had promised me that he would talk to Mike. Mike wouldn't have wanted him to stay. He liked Masen no more than I did. I prayed that the customer would stay long. I couldn't even stand the thought of a situation when I would be alone in the store with him.

My desperate prayer was ignored, so it seemed. I heard the clink of the cash register, and heard the man leave, thanking Masen in a deep, joyful voice.

I hated myself for hiding myself in here. I hated the fact that this man had made a coward out of me. I wanted to run from the room. Fear crept up my spine slowly, tauntingly.

Then I heard his footsteps. He was walking towards me. Then, I wondered desperately whether he killed for enjoyment. I wondered if he enjoyed the terrified, pleading stare of a victim.

_Ridiculous. He couldn't hurt me here_, I thought. There were people all around the place. But his loud footsteps made it seem like the whole world was suddenly empty of people.

And then he reached me. His lips curled into a cruel smirk, scanning my face with his hate-filled eyes. He leaned against the metal bars.

"Hiding, are you?" His voice was oddly hollow. It sounded like a dead voice. It was a voice that sounded like a sudden tragedy had drained all of its pleasing beauty out of it.

I couldn't reply. All of my muscles were tensed for action.

"Newton told me he didn't want me here anymore. He said _your friend_ told him not to let me in here." His sallow face stared at the opposite wall.

"What did I do to you? You don't even know me." His face was still turned away.

Sensing my lack of reply, he turned towards me. "You're typical. No more than I expect a stranger to be these days. So, who was it? Who told you about me?" His voice was sharp.

"It's...it's none of your business." I began to fear for Emmett.

"_Yes_, it is my business. _It is_ my business, when it comes to all these people I don't even know, pointing fingers at me. Fearing for yourself, huh? Afraid that I would ruin your pretty face if you stayed near me a minute longer? You, selfish, nosy little brat! How dare you close this down for me? I told you I needed the money. If it wasn't for Karen Newton, we would have gone hungry today. You don't care about any of this, do you? You arrogant little…"

"Shut up!" I shouted. "Shut up, that's enough. You talk like I did some unforgivable crime. I know what _you_ did. And I don't want you anywhere near me." I hands balled into fists.

His eyes sparked with fury. He inched slowly towards me. "What did I do, huh? Tell me." The sneer was in place again, and his voice was low, calm and icy.

"You…" I stuttered.

"Tell me." He moved closer.

"I'm not…" My heart thudded frantically.

"_Say_ it!" He shouted.

"_**You killed your own mother**_!"

My hands flew up to cup my mouth, shocked at what I had just said.

His reaction was instant. He grabbed me by my collar and held me just inches away from his pale face. His green eyes suddenly came alive, swirling with emerald flames. The fabric was straining against my neck, and it was extremely painful. "You don't know anything." He whispered, staring revulsion and spite into my wide brown eyes.

And then, his grip loosened and I staggered away from him, staring at him in shock.

His brow furrowed above his burning eyes, and as he turned his face away, I saw tears in them.

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing my story. Cheers! **

**I'll update the next chapter very soon. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

One… Two...Three…

I watched the pendulum of the old grandfather clock at the corner of the room. The comforting sound echoed all around me. I was lying on the couch; counting the seconds, because I had nowhere to go and no one to see. It was a Saturday. Charlie was at the station, Emmett was nowhere to be seen, and he hadn't picked up the phone when I had called him. The darkness of the cloudy sky drooped down onto the ground and settled on the trees, making them tinged with gray. The soft, faded gray light surrounded me, like a suffocating, transparent blanket.

It was choking me, this tiny town. The sun never lasted for more than a few days, and green took up every inch of available ground. When I was a child, I loved it here. I loved getting lost in the woods and I loved chasing butterflies. I loved staring at the rain, and I loved the noises it would bring.

But now, I wished desperately that I could escape to my mother's sunlit world. But I knew that was impossible. I couldn't do that to Charlie. He needed me, though he would never admit it. But I was afraid, that if I stayed here too long, the green web of Forks would grow around me, and hold me here forever, just like the ancient, moss -covered trees in my backyard.

And then, I heard a knock on the door. I blinked, jumped up from the couch, and ran to the door, expecting to see Emmett. As I opened the door, a dark haired girl waited for me.

She was short, and her face was determined. She was eyeing me with a slightly haughty look, and her dark brown eyes were narrowed. She had chin-length tousled black hair and she was dressed in a shocking variety of colorful clothes. She wore equally colorful beads around her neck and her wrists.

"Isabella Swan?" She asked in a flat voice.

"Yes."

"I'm Alice Evenson." She extended her arm.

"Hello." I said, and shook it. "Please come in."

She walked past me into the living room, and sat down on the couch. I sat down in Charlie's armchair.

"My mom, Esme Evenson, owns a ceramic shop next to Newtons'. Do you know her?"

"No, I don't." I admitted, wondering what this was about.

"Hm." She said, pausing, looking around at the room. I was growing slightly annoyed.

Her eyes flashed back to me, and she pursed her lips. After a few uncomfortable seconds, she spoke. "Actually, I'm here because I wanted to talk to you about something. It's about Edward Masen. I suppose you've met him?" Her tone was filled with sarcasm.

"I have." I crossed my ankles, not wanting to remember his last confrontation. "What about him?" I asked, a little arrogant myself.

"Well, I don't really know how to tell you this, but Isabella…"

"Bella." I corrected.

"Right. Bella. Well, see…chasing him out of that store wasn't very nice of you. He has every right to work there as you have." She leaned back against the couch, folding her arms, looking me straight in the eyes.

Embarrassment began to tinge my cheeks with pink. How did she know about that?

"What? You aren't going to say anything?" She asked. Her tone was starting to make me angry. I had half a mind to ask her to leave.

"He makes me uncomfortable." I muttered.

"Oh, now that's a _really_ good reason." She said, with a bitter laugh.

"It sounds good enough to me." I replied angrily, glaring at the short, arrogant girl.

She surveyed me with her twinkling dark brown eyes, her lips pulled up in a smirk.

"Selfish, aren't you?" She asked in a low voice.

Selfish. _Selfish_. That was exactly what Masen had called me. I felt my carefully suppressed anger bubble up.

"I am _not_." I hissed. "I am _not_ selfish. You would have done the same thing if you knew what he did. Obviously, you don't, or you wouldn't even be here, defending him." As I grew edgier by the minute, Alice Evenson only appeared to relax further.

"Oh, really?" She raised her eyebrows. "What did he do, then?"

"Thought you knew him so well, huh? Well, I have news for you. The guy's a murderer. He killed his mother, and he's lucky that the cops haven't got him yet. He's just a sly coward." I smirked.

Alice stood up from the couch, her expression losing its sarcasm. She stared down at me. "I've known him since I was five. He's like a brother to me. No, he _is_ my brother. I think I can confidently say, that what you heard was total rubbish. You hear me? Rubbish." She was glaring at me now.

"He loved his mother. It wasn't him who did it. He would never do it. All his life, he's been trying to prove it. And then, you throw those words at him without even thinking about it, and do you have any idea how much that hurt him…?" I suddenly remembered the tears in his eyes, and felt guilty. But I wasn't sure if I could entirely believe what this girl said. "…No, you don't, because he makes you _uncomfortable_." She mimicked my voice.

She faced away from me for a minute, drawing deep breaths. "He wouldn't want me to be talking about this." She murmured. "Especially with you."

Then, she walked over to the door, and held it open. "You know, I would think you were a really bad person if you didn't apologize to him. Because that's what you should do. If you do, don't tell me I came to see you. He wouldn't have wanted me to." Alice Evenson looked at me with those intelligent brown eyes for a second, and her colorful form walked out the door, into the dull morning.

**Tell me what you think. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Edward Masen showed up at the store, with Alice Evenson by his side. Her bright clothes, all of them varying shades of red, stood out conspicuously among the usual crowds of Fork's casual dressers. He stopped outside the glass door, and talked to her for a while. She smiled and nodded her head at him, occasionally shooting glances at where I sat inside the store, trying determinedly not to look at her. I picked up a piece of paper and slowly tore it into small pieces, bringing myself to concentrate on my job.

Finally, when I ran out of paper, I looked up.

I saw her hugging him, and he hugged her back. She gave him yet another smile, and skipped down the footpath.

Edward Masen was still smiling as he pushed the door open. He didn't seem to notice my presence. He put on his employee vest over his faded blue shirt, and disappeared further into the store.

I ran a hand through my tangled hair, feeling it release a lot of trapped heat. I let out a big sigh. I'd been feeling guilty for what I had said to Masen last time. Alice Evenson's visit convinced me; somehow, that what I'd done was wrong. I don't know what it was, but it was something about her. Her wise eyes told me that I was ignorant. But _she _wasn't. And I trusted her, even though it was against my better judgment.

I got up from the chair, stretching a bit to get rid of the stiffness.

My cheeks were slowly beginning to get heated as I walked along the backpack aisles, turning a corner until I found him arranging a rack of bicycle tires.

His face was focused only on what he was doing, and he pretended not to hear me. I paused a few feet away from him, pursing my lips.

"Do you… um, need any help?" I asked, forcing myself to look him in the face.

"No." He simply answered, shoving away a box of discarded rubber with his foot, moving to the next rack.

I stood there for a few seconds, watching his tired face. His expression still remained indifferent.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Look, I'm sorry."

He played deaf, his hands quickly combing through rows of suspended tires. He counted them and wrote it down on a notepad. And then he moved on to another.

I exhaled a little harder, and moved closer. "I'm sorry for what I said. I wasn't thinking."

No answer.

I watched him for a minute longer.

Making sure I wasn't going to get a reply, I started to walk away, angry tears stinging my eyes.

"Wait."

I heard him call. I stopped walking, and slowly turned around to face him.

He wiped his hands on the sides of his jeans, a frown forming on his forehead.

I folded my arms and looked into his green eyes.

"Um, Isabella..." He began.

"Bella." I corrected him instinctively.

"Okay, then. Bella." He looked at me, hands in his pocket. He paused. "I'm sorry."

"_You're_ sorry?" I stared at him.

"Yes. I shouldn't…I shouldn't have acted that way. I thought I was…better than that. I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked anxiously.

"No." I assured him.

"And I'll tell you this. I don't know who you heard it from, but I didn't do it." He looked down. "I could never do it. It…hurts when people sneer at you everywhere you go, and call you names, for something you never did. I never did it. I loved my mom." His brow crumpled and I felt deeply sorry for him.

"Don't worry. I don't believe that anymore. Which is why I'm sorry. And please forget about everything that has happened, all right? Because I feel kind of uncomfortable when I think about it. I'm sure you do too." I gave him a small smile.

"Thank you." He said, and gave me a smile in return. The smile lifted a bit of fatigue from his eyes and made him look healthy. At least temporarily.

Our little understanding lifted a heavy weight from my chest. I was free to be here without feeling the stress. I felt relatively happier as I moved back to the counter to wait for customers.

The clouds that were pregnant with gray erupted with a huge peal of thunder, and it began to rain.


End file.
